


Howdy Neighbor

by predilection



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s04e17 It's a Terrible Life, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-10-17 20:26:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10601598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/predilection/pseuds/predilection
Summary: What if during "It's A Terrible Life", Cas was Dean Smith's next door neighbor?





	

**Author's Note:**

> I've always liked "It's A Terrible Life", and while re-watching season four of Supernatural, I came up with the idea for this story.
> 
> Warnings for canon-levels of violence and the "suicides" that took place in the episode, though this fic isn't gory and doesn't explore any of these deaths in detail.

Dean hates overtime, but he's gotten used to getting back to his condo late into the evening. He's also gotten used to being exhausted, so when he steps into the elevator, he's thinking about how nice it will be to take a shower, eat a salad for dinner, and then get a solid eight hours of sleep before he has to go back to work again.

A guy steps into the elevator just as the doors start closing. Normally Dean doesn't care about other people in his building, but this guy catches Dean's attention because he doesn't bother to select a floor -- he just stands on the other side of the elevator and waits for the doors to close without even once glancing in Dean's direction.

Now that the guy has Dean's attention, Dean can't help but notice that the guy also looks like he's coming home from a long day at the office. His suit is rumpled as is the trench coat he's wearing over it. His tie is loose and hangs backwards around his neck, and his hair is sticking up every which way suggesting he either slept on it or tugged at it multiple times in frustration. 

"Rough day?" Dean asks and it's odd. He doesn't usually talk to strangers.

The guy turns towards him, and Dean notices that he has brilliant blue eyes. They flicker up to Dean's face and the guy frowns. "Something like that," he answers, his voice rougher than Dean expected.

Before either of them can say anything more, the elevator stops at Dean's floor. Dean steps out, and as he's walking down the hall towards his condo, he hears Trench Coat exit the elevator and follow after him. When Dean's at his door, he turns to face Trench Coat, ready to ask if the guy's a stalker. 

To Dean's surprise, Trench Coat is standing in front of the door to the condo next to his, one hand on a key already inserted into the door's lock. Although Dean's never seen Trench Coat before, apparently he's Dean's next door neighbor. Trench Coat glances up at Dean and then turns his doorknob and disappears inside his condo.

Dean lets himself into his own condo and by the time he's in the shower, he's forgotten about his encounter with Trench Coat.

*

He sees Trench Coat again two days later, standing in the lobby bright and early in the morning. Dean notices that he's still wearing the worn-looking trench coat, the rumpled suit and the backwards tie.

Trench Coat catches Dean giving him the once over and stares back at him, expressionless. 

"No offense, dude, but maybe you should ask your boss for a day off or something," Dean tells him.

Trench Coat sighs. "My... boss would not approve of such a thing."

"Yeah, I know the feeling."

A corner of the guy's mouth quirks upwards at that. It's not quite a smile, but strangely Dean feels warmed by it. Then he wonders why he feels warmed by it. After all, he doesn't even know Trench Coat.

Dean clears his throat. He considers asking Trench Coast what he does, but then thinks better of it and walks out the door to his car.

*

Days later, Dean realizes he's out of quinoa after he's already started making a quinoa salad for dinner. He puts his freshly chopped vegetables back into his fridge, and planning to make a quick run to the local health food store, grabs his keys and wallet.

As he passes by Trench Coat's door, he finds himself stopping. Shrugging to himself, he knocks.

Trench Coat cracks his door open and blinks at him. He's eyes don't really widen but Dean can tell that he's surprised to see Dean.

"Can I help you?" Trench Coat asks slowly.

"Uh, yeah," Dean says. "I ran out of quinoa. I was wondering if you had any."

Trench Coat just blinks at him some more, and Dean wonders what he's doing. The guy doesn't seem remotely like a health buff or even like he knows what quinoa is. He's also not opening the door more than a few inches so he doesn't seem like he appreciates visitors.

Just as Dean's about to tell Trench Coat to forget it, Trench Coat says, "One moment, please," and shuts his door in Dean's face. Dean hears a noise like wind rustling that sounds oddly familiar, and then the door re-opens and Trench Coat is handing him an unopened bag of premium whole grain one-hundred-percent quinoa.

"Is this satisfactory?" Trench Coat asks.

Dean looks down the label and feels the weight of the bag in his hands. "Yeah, this is great. Thanks." 

Trench Coat nods, and he takes a moment to stare at Dean, his bright blue eyes making Dean feel strangely vulnerable. 

"Is that all?" Trench Coat asks.

Dean startles, realizing that he was staring back. "Uh, yeah. Thanks again," he says and walks back to his condo.

*

The next day, when Dean goes to pick up his mail in the lobby after work, he finds Trench Coat standing by the mailboxes holding a bunch of envelopes. Before Dean can even say hello, Trench Coat holds the envelopes out to him. Dean eyes them and Trench Coat, but takes the envelopes from his hand. 

"I think these were put in my mailbox by mistake," Trench Coat explains. 

Sure enough, the mail is addressed to Dean Smith.

"Huh. I should really talk to management or maybe the mail person about that," Dean says.

"You do that," Trench Coat says. His expression is blank, but for some reason, Dean can tell that Trench Coat is happy to see him.

When they both get into the elevator together, Dean holds out his hand to Trench Coat. "I'm Dean Smith," he tells him.

Trench Coat stares at his hand and then glances up at Dean's face. His tongue flicks out to wet his lips and Dean's mesmerized by it. He doesn't pull his eyes away from Trench Coat's mouth until Trench Coat takes Dean's hand and says, "Cas."

"Cas?" Dean asks to make sure he's heard his name right.

"It's short for Castiel. My father... is very religious."

Though he's not one for small talk, Dean asks, "What about you?"

"Pardon?"

"Are you religious?" Dean clarifies.

"Yes, but..." Cas takes a deep breath and Dean watches it travel through Cas' body, almost like a shudder. "Lately, I have been questioning my faith."

Dean's never been much of a religious person, so he doesn't know what to say to that. He only asked... to keep Cas talking. He likes hearing Cas speak, he realizes.

*

Dean tells himself it's the long hours and the lack of human contact outside of work. He figures that that's the only reason he's happy to see Cas standing in the lobby again two mornings later.

Cas is by the glass doors to their condo, staring up at the sky through the windows that flank it. Dean follows his gaze. The clouds are dark grey, threatening rain.

"You waiting for someone?" Dean asks.

Cas' brows furrow but he keeps his eyes on the sky. "Yes," he replies.

"Are they late?" 

Cas shakes his head. "I don't think they're arriving today."

"You need a ride?" Dean offers and a moment later, he's frowning at himself. Deep down, he knows why he's offering and it's not entirely because he's feeling altruistic. 

"That's kind of you, Dean, but I'll manage." Cas tilts his head to look over at Dean and smiles at him for the first time. It's a small but genuine expression and Dean feels something warm settle in his chest. 

*

At work, he barely thinks of Cas at all. He's too busy trying to get Sandover's new ad campaign together, deadlines looming over him. He ends up working overtime again.

When he gets into the elevator to leave work that evening, a strange, tall man tries to talk to him. He's wearing the yellow polo shirts of Sandover's IT department and Dean gives him the stink eye when he asks if they've met before. 

He's never seen this guy in his life.

*

The next morning, Dean gets in to work to find police all over the third floor of the building. Apparently, someone in IT committed suicide in a rather gruesome way.

The same day, the tall guy from the elevator tries to talk to him about ghosts.

He's thrilled when his day is over, and he can't deny that he's happy when he runs into Cas in the hallway outside their condos. Cas takes in Dean's appearance and Dean isn't sure what he notices, but in perfect mimicry of their first interaction, Cas asks, "Rough day?"

Dean snorts. "Yeah. You could say that."

To Dean's surprise, Cas reaches over and puts his hand on Dean's shoulder. "You'll get through this," he says simply, looking Dean right in the eye. His expression is determined, like he has the utmost belief in Dean's ability to persevere, and Dean feels that warm feeling in his chest again.

*

The next day, Dean watches someone stab themselves with a pencil, realizes that something very abnormal is happening at his workplace, and ends up bringing the tall guy from the elevator -- Sam, apparently -- home with him so they can look up things that go bump in the night. 

If he hadn't seen something supernatural with his own two eyes, Dean knows he'd be scoffing at how ridiculous it all sounded. Though he can't deny that something inside him is screaming at him to do something to keep anyone else from getting hurt. Sam seems to have the same instinct, and after they figure out they're dealing with a ghost, Dean starts searching his apartment for something made of iron that they can use to fight it. 

When he doesn't find anything, he gets an idea. "I'll be back in a sec," he tells Sam, leaving him sitting in front of his laptop as he steps out and walks to Cas' door.

Cas opens his door wider this time, and Dean notices that his condo -- what little he can see of it, at least -- seems fairly empty. Dean doesn't say anything about it though. Instead, he asks, "I know this is a strange question, but do you own anything made of iron I could possibly borrow?"

Cas blinks at him, but thankfully does not ask him why he's asking. Instead he says, "I think I might have something. Give me a moment." He shuts his door and Dean hears that same fluttering sound of wind. Then Cas is opening the door again and handing him two fireplace pokers. "Will these suffice?" he asks.

They're heavy and Dean knows they're wrought iron just by looking at them. "They're perfect, Cas. Thanks." 

He's tempted to ask Cas why he has two fireplace pokers when their condos all come with gas fireplaces, but Cas says, "You're welcome, Dean," and licks his lips, and Dean forgets what he was going to say.

"Be careful," Cas says.

"What?"

"Of fire," Cas explains, gesturing to the pokers. "Be sure that you don't get burned."

Dean smirks at that. "You worried about me?" After the day he's had, he doesn't care anymore if he's flirting with a guy, especially if it's a guy whose very presence he finds comforting. He needs that comfort right about now.

"Yes," Cas says, too seriously to be flirting back but as he returns to his condo, Dean still feels buoyed by Cas' concern for him.

*

He and Sam make it back to Sandover before midnight, and by three in the morning, they've fought a ghost and won. It's exhilarating and makes Dean feel alive in a way his job never has. So afterwards, when Sam suggests that they quit their jobs and take off to hunt monsters, Dean's tempted to say yes -- he's tempted to throw away his beautiful condo and cushy job for something completely outlandish.

But he can't do it -- not like this, not without thought -- so he tells Sam no.

*

He doesn't sleep at all the night. He just stares up at his ceiling and thinks about the fact that ghosts are real, and that he saved lives. The more he thinks about it, the headier it feels, and he wonders if Sam will be in the office tomorrow -- if they can discuss it more.

He's tired and distracted so he almost walks into Cas in the lobby the following morning. Cas is staring out the window again, up at the sky. Unlike the last time they met like this, there's not a cloud in the sky. It looks like it's going to be a beautiful day. 

Cas turns his head towards Dean, his brows furrowed. "You alright, Dean?" he asks softly.

Dean stares back at him. "Yeah," he says, though he doesn't feel alright at all. He's considering giving up everything he's worked so hard to achieve for something that sounds completely and totally preposterous.

It hits him then: if he goes through with this and takes off with Sam, he probably won't see Cas ever again. The thought makes him sad and before he knows it, he's stepping forward into Cas' personal space.

"Dean?" Cas asks.

Cas' tie is backwards, like it always is, and Dean reaches for it. He pulls out the knot and though he doesn't remember ever tying a tie on someone else before, he easily re-ties Cas' tie into a full Windsor and pulls it snug against Cas' collar.

"Dean?" Cas asks again, and they're standing too close to be casual. Cas licks his lips to wet them, the same way he always does, but this time Dean feels like he's being drawn in by a magnet so he closes his eyes and leans in to bring their lips together.

Before they lips touch, Cas' hands are on his shoulders, pushing him back gently. Dean startles and his eyes fly open as he takes a step back, flushing. "Sorry," he says. "I don't... I didn't mean to--"

"I'm not upset," Cas says, but he's frowning. "I just... think you will be."

Dean doesn't exactly understand what Cas means, but his words ring true. Dean runs a hand through his hair. "I don't know what came over me. I apologize."

"No apology is necessary," Cas tells him. He offers Dean one of his rare small smiles, and though it makes Dean feel a little better, as he drives to work, he's still upset at himself for being so forward towards someone he's only just met.

*

Mr. Adler offers him a handsome bonus -- the kind of bonus he'd be lucky to see after ten years of work at Sandover, let alone after two weeks. For a moment, Dean considers it and the promise of making VP in a few short years. It's everything he's worked so hard for. It's everything he's ever wanted.

It feels hollow.

He slides the offer back towards Mr. Adler and gives his two-week notice.

The next thing Dean knows, he's no longer Dean Smith. He's Dean Winchester, clean-shaven, hungry, and wearing a monkey suit while sitting across from an angel who's trying to teach him some sort of life lesson. He's furious to have been toyed with like some sort of plaything, and nothing Zachariah tells him about hunting being his true calling makes him feel any better about the situation.

He leaves his suit jacket in Dean Smith's office as he takes the elevator down to the IT Department to fetch Sam so they can find the Impala and high tail it out of there.

Instead, he finds a smashed up phone and the news that Sam had quit earlier that morning.

*

He's still furious when he drives back to Dean Smith's condo in the Prius and when he bangs on his supposed neighbor's door.

"Open up, Cas!" 

Cas does, this time fully, and Dean realizes that his condo is devoid of any furniture or belongings.

"Hello, Dean," Cas says.

Dean pushes him back into the condo and stalks in after him. "You asshole!" he spits. "You knew what they were doing to us and you let them!"

Cas' brows furrow in what seem like equal parts frustration and pain. "I wasn't supposed to be part of this mission." 

"Bullshit," Dean says. "What? You just happen to live next to me in this swanky building and run into me every day?"

"I volunteered to watch over you," Cas tells him.

Dean snorts. "I bet you did. I didn't expect you to be the type to get their kicks from seducing someone."

Cas' eyes widen minutely and then his expression hardens. "That was you," he tells Dean and then gestures towards his living room. "I was too busy keeping you safe."

Dean doesn't believe him, but he takes two steps to the left, enough to get a good look at whatever is in Cas' living room. He doesn't know what he's expecting to find, but four dead bodies aren't it. He's about to ask about them when he smells sulfur. 

"Demons," he realizes.

"Just because you and your brother forgot who you were didn't mean that Hell did," Cas explains.

"So, what? You just took out anything that came our way so your buddy Zachariah was free to play Barbie's Dreamhouse with us?"

Cas nods, grimacing and eyes downcast. "For what it's worth, I was against this mission."

"That's great, Cas," Dean says. "Then why didn't you say something?"

"I couldn't. Zachariah is my superior." He doesn't look up from the floor, clearly uncomfortable. "It would not have... gone well for me."

Dean remembers the happiness he felt whenever he ran into Cas over the past two weeks and suddenly he feels uncomfortable too. "Fuck this," he says. "Where's Sam?"

"I can bring him here," Cas says.

Dean hates the way angels travel, but he has no idea if Sam even has his memories back and he hates the idea of Sam walking around in the world without his memories even more. "Fine," he says. "Then tell me where my car is."

"It's parked in the garage under this building. I knew... that you would want it nearby." Cas eyes meet his then, his expression pinched but earnest. Damn him, Dean thinks, as his chest feels warm, this time without any kind of spell acting between them.

"Whatever," Dean says. "Go get Sam."

Cas vanishes and the sound of rushing air is familiar. He's heard it many, many times before, and he realizes that the two times he went over and asked Cas for favors, Cas flew away to get what he had wanted. He curses, wanting to be angry at Cas and knowing that, if anything, he's grateful that Cas had had his back when he wasn't in any shape to have it himself.

Cas reappears with Sam, who's pulling his arm out of Cas' and still wearing a yellow Sandover polo shirt. He staggers away from Cas, alarmed, and then he sees Dean.

"Dean?" he asks. "Where am I? Who is this?"

Dean immediately turns to Cas to demand he fix this, but Cas is already walking towards Sam. Sam steps back warily, away from Cas, but Cas is faster and touches two of his fingers to Sam's forehead.

Sam's eyes go wide. He glances at Cas and Dean and then down at himself. He looks like he's ready to kill someone and sounds like he's about to hyperventilate when he asks, "What the hell is going on?"

Dean fills him in on their new pal Zachariah and how all this was done to supposedly teach them a lesson about destiny.

"I believe the lesson was designed solely for you, Dean," Cas tells them, after Sam's stopped swearing. "Sam was only involved because he served Zachariah's purposes and because it kept him from searching for you."

Dean wants to punch something and instead glares at Cas. "That's just wonderful! Have I ever told you that I hate your friends, Cas? Especially since I don't even know what exactly they want from me."

Cas sighs and reaches into the pocket of his trench coat. He pulls out a familiar set of car keys and offers them to Dean. Dean rips them out of his hand. "Come on, Sam," he says as he heads for the door. "Let's gets out of this yuppie hellhole."

*

They're back in their own clothes and checked into a motel for the night. Sam is out, picking up diner food and pie, and Dean revels in the comforting weight of the glock tucked into the back of his pants and the knife in his boot. He's almost starting to feel like himself again when he hears the wind rustle, and turns to find Cas standing by the beds.

"What now?" Dean asks.

"I want to apologize," Cas says.

Dean crosses his arms over his chest. "That's a new one."

Cas heaves a sigh and walks over to him. "I was given permission to protect you. By interacting with you the way I did..." he frowns, and he looks so uncomfortable that Dean almost feels bad for him. Almost. "I overstepped my bounds."

Some part of Dean wants to tell Cas to piss off, but another part of him is happy to see Cas the same way he was always happy to see Cas when he ran into him in the condo, so he grits his teeth and doesn't say anything at all.

"For what it's worth, it wasn't just you," Cas tells him.

"What?" Dean asks.

"In the lobby that day," he explains. "I didn't want to push you away."

Dean growls in frustration, suddenly furious. He closes the space between him and Cas, grabs Cas by his forearms and slams him into the nearest wall. "What are you telling me? That that wasn't some part of the angels' plan?" Cas has already said as much, but Cas was complicit in what Zachariah did him and Sam, and he wants -- no, _needs_ \-- to be sure.

Cas swallows and he appears lost and confused when he replies, "That wasn't in anyone's plans."

"That's just great," Dean says, his throat going dry and his anger draining out of him in the face of Cas' obvious sincerity. 

"Dean," Cas says and it sounds he's pleading. 

Dean doesn't know what to do until Cas wets his lips. Then all Dean wants to do is what he wanted to do that day in the condo lobby. "Dammit, Cas," he curses before he pushes forward and claims Cas' lips with his own. 

He expects the kiss to feel unsettling and awkward, like so many of his interactions with Cas, but if anything, it feels good, especially when Cas kisses him back. Though Dean still has Cas pushed up against the wall, the kiss is surprisingly gentle and when Dean pulls away, he's shaking. 

"What the hell is this, Cas?" he asks, lowering his forehead to Cas' shoulder. From the corner of his eye, he can see Cas' tie. It's still knotted in a full Windsor.

"I don't know," Cas admits. "I've never... this is blasphemy." 

Dean feels another spike of anger and raises his head. "You're the one who decided to visit me," he reminds Cas.

"I know," Cas says softly. Dean notices that his pupils are blown at the same time Cas leans forward in invitation. Dean meets him halfway, their mouths sliding against each other more hungrily this time. 

"You better not be messing with me," Dean says against his lips, but Cas lifts his hands to both sides of Dean's face and holds him, almost tenderly, before kissing him again.

*

Cas is still there when Sam gets back holding a bag filled with take-out containers and another with beer. At Sam's raised eyebrow, Dean shrugs and tells him, "He's having a crisis of faith. I figured he could stay with us for a while."

Sam eyes Cas warily. His jaw works for a moment and Dean can tell he's suspicious when he asks, "Are you sure about this?"

Cas is sitting on one of the motel's chairs, leaning forward. His elbows rest on his thighs and his hands are folded together between them. His head is bowed and his brows are creased, a sign that he's deep in thought. He knows that Cas' distress is genuine, the same way he knew in his gut, even brainwashed, that he was meant to be a hunter.

And as much as he isn't keen about having an angel tagging along with them, having Cas nearby still makes him feel warm in ways he's not used to. Though he doesn't plan on telling Sam about any of that. Not yet anyway. Not until Dean has a chance to process what Zachariah did to them and Cas figures himself out. Not until he and Cas sort themselves out, which they'll only be able to do if Cas stays.

He looks back up at Sam, and as he takes the bags from Sam's hands, he says, "Yeah, Sammy. I'm sure."


End file.
